


War In Summary

by musicquartz



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7134230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicquartz/pseuds/musicquartz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another very short work of mine-- I plan on rewriting this in a more constant flow, and with more context to the characters. As of now, they're just nameless faces. Feedback is very much appreciated <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	War In Summary

“And look at who’s still standing. I give you my admiration, even though you’re a mutinous fiend to my corporation. I didn’t expect a fool to last nearly this long.” The man grinned maniacally, wiping a stream of blood from his lips. His broad shoulders were held tight, as he was showing off the remaining strength he had. The hunched, panting figure in front of him growled weakly, a broken defiant still showing what little stamina they had left in their lean, swaying body. 

“You’re weak,” he continued. “A broken nose, a cut here and there. What are these minor wounds on me compared to what I’ll do to you? Your respect and honor? Maybe even that pretty gal of yours..” He snickered, watching the figure’s head snap up again, eyes glowing with rage. 

Breathlessly, the figure grunted and managed a response, “You leave her out of this… I’ll rip your heart out, you bastard...” The shadowed, bleeding figure stood tall, as straight as they could manage with their numerous injuries and aching muscles, their body protesting against their movements. 

“Please…” he said, his eyes flashing with something not quite sane. “Try.”

 

**_POV Change_ **

 

I’ll do more than try. I’ll leave him begging and bleeding, writhing on the ground, uttering pitiful groans and cries. He’ll become a hollow shell of what he claims to be. My heart was pounding in a relentless rhythm, urging me to stop thinking, to act again, to kill him. The fight has driven us both half insane with aggravation and exhaustion, even if his pretentious cover hardly shows it. But all I need to do is stay still for just a little longer, let my wounds hold me down. I’ll inflate his ego fit to burst, build his confidence that he’s won, and then force my tired body to charge at him. I’ll wring his neck and eat his heart out, he won’t have another chance to move. I know what I’ll do, where I’ll go; I just need to wait a little longer. 

“Tick tock, tick tock. I’m becoming bored with you yet again. Have you really given up so easily? You started with so much energy, you’re so young and full of strife. But with youth and energy comes clumsiness. With just a few slight of hands, I’ve driven you down like a railroad spike. But then again, what should I have expected from a useless mongrel?” He smirked, lifting his arms to talk with his hands, showing off how well he could move, how fluidly, when I could not. 

But that one move, that chink in his armor, was all I needed to bring him to my level. The devilish grin on his face faltered as I screamed a horrible, grating and gurgling scream, and dropped completely when I leapt at him. My hands were gripping two glinting blades tightly, my arms outreached, murder in my heart and a thirst for blood clawing at my throat. Smoothly, expertly, I dragged a blade across his muscular upper abdomen, as deep as I could, as deep as I dared, knowing a cut there couldn’t kill him immediately. There was too much risk, the cold, chrome metal in his hands as soon as my foot touched the ground, beginning my pained, desperate dance away from him. The pain spreading through his body was the only thing keeping him from pulling the trigger. 

He winced in pain, clenching his teeth, a calculating glare shot at me instead of a bullet. But I paid no attention to his hateful looks, as I was trying not to howl in agony, my battered muscles and shredded skin objecting to any movement at all, let alone such a vicious attack. Although trying to hold a dominating stance, my opposer wobbled, the demanding pain leeching away the energy his legs needed to keep him upright. Blood dripped menacingly from us both, the battle neither won nor lost, but balanced almost perfectly in between, the weapons of one against the skills of another.

I was seeing red, but I wasn’t sure if it was my rage or my blood dripping down into my eyes. I was so close; another gash like that last one and he wouldn’t be able to stand. I steadied my feet, grinding my teeth to stay silent, and observed him carefully. 

It’s possible that I could get the gun out of his hands, but I only saw one way that wouldn’t ultimately lead to my death. If I could keep him bleeding heavy like this just a little while longer.. 

“Enough of this childish fisticuffs,” he panted, scowling deeply. He cocked the gun swiftly with his thumb, resting his forefinger on the trigger. “I’m finishing this.” 

I gulped, my plan cut short. He was losing his patience too early, tired of playing cat-and-mouse. I opened my mouth to speak, flinching at yet another wave of pain. 

“Wa-it..” I croaked, wincing at the rawness and weakness of my voice. I was disgusted he could cause me such injury. My outcry caused him to raise his eyebrows, keeping his gun steady, A sign that I had peaked his interest; I was begging him to wait, to stop. The real, powerful person I was, sinking down to such a despicable level. 

“Pro-omise me-,” I continued. He rolled his eyes and steadied his shoulders, aiming at my chest. “Y-you’ll s-stop thi-is..”

He replied coolly, calmly, the laceration seemingly not causing him even the slightest discomfort anymore, “You’re in no position to ask me for favors. Besides,” He grinned harshly, teeth stained a deep, crimson shade. “Haven’t you always known me to be untrustworthy?” He allowed himself a small cackle, relishing in the fact that he’s finally putting an end to me, that he was the one and only position of power once again. But that slight lapse in concentration was all I needed for one last attack. 

I grit my teeth and tensed, ready to jump at him again, before I realized the gun had not moved from it’s position. I needed to be closer to him to try and incapacitate him. So I pushed the pain out of my mind and started towards him, ducking and weaving. He grew serious quickly and tried to aim the gun at my moving figure, but everytime he moved his waist and shoulders, a fresh stream of blood would pour from the slash in his stomach. It was slowing him down, weakening him even, and I could see that he was leaning heavily on his right leg. So I aimed my body at his left side, throwing myself at him once more. He fired the gun hastily, clumsily; the bullet only grazed my ear, probably one of the mildest injuries I have. 

I started to scream with anger and with anguish, my wounds widening in turn with my stretching muscles. As luck would have it, my dagger only grazed his torso, enough to sting and enough to bleed, but not enough to bring the large man to his knees. My second in midair ended and I collided with him, my head hitting his shoulder painfully, knocking us both back to the ground. As we landed, my breath left me and I wheezed, desperately trying to breathe, helpless. He snarled in disgust and rage, detangling himself from me and pushing me away. 

I groaned as he shoved me brutally, and I rolled a few feet away and stopped, resting with my back to him. I struggled to move, to stand, slowly regaining my breath. My arms were shaking, and he was panting behind me threateningly. 

“You..” His voice faded and quickly returned, and with a sickening jolt, I realized he had been reaching for his fallen gun. “Have made…” I struggled with all my remaining strength, fear tightening its cold fist around my heart. The force of hitting him and stumbling to the hard ground has sapped my remaining strength and I’m practically unable to move. “A big mistake…” The sharp snap echoed in my ears as he cocked the gun, and I could hear him rise to his feet. I gave up trying to stand and squeezed my eyes shut in pure terror. 

He let loose a rough, unforgiving chuckle, and then a force explodes in my back, like a freight train. Flames spread up and down my back and legs, a feeling like fire licking at every nerve. I felt my head snap back and my eyes open, but all I saw was black, my blood roaring in my ears. I could feel my throat growing raw as I screamed, pain like no other consuming me completely, my body spasming and writhing, out of my own control. 

The intense agony burned me, crashing over me like a tsunami, and if this was death, I begged it to end this and take me away. The pain subsided slightly, ever so slightly, and I could hear him toss the gun at my head, cackling like the maniac he was. And then everything faded, and I felt everything in me relax as I gave away to bliss. 

 

**_POV Change_ **

 

The standing man noted the fallen figure smugly. Blood was pooling around their still form, and they had ceased twitching and jerking. He sighed audibly, regarding the gun in his hand with disinterest. “What a beautiful thing, war,” he mumbled to himself before discarding the gun, flicking it at the still body of his enemy.

He turned his back and began limping away, a small chuckling growing in volume until his insane guffaw echoed throughout the small clearing. The many battles that had led up to this final confrontation had not been in vain, nor the losses he had suffered worth nothing. The man kept limping away with as much swagger and confidence as he could muster, laughing triumphantly and calling for his men to retrieve him. Because it was over, at last. 

Until the bloodied, broken form on the ground stirred, that is. They clawed at the ground, coughing and hacking. They tried unsuccessfully to sit up, their bottom half dead in weight, lying useless on the ground. So, propping their weight on a shaking forearm, they reached for the gun. It fell from their weak grasp, so they swiped it closer, looking down at it. Their breath rattled in their chest, every exhale wet and ragged. After a few minutes of waiting, they jerkily shoved the gun into an empty holster clipped onto their pants, and they laid down onto their stomach. 

 

**_POV Change_ **

 

The pain wove through me, dull and throbbing, shock absorbing most of the sharp fire I felt before. I could feel the grip of the gun press against my hip, but not the shoes on my feet, nor the pants I had on. The bastard shot me lazily in the spine, paralyzing me from the waist down and leaving me for death. 

I may bleed out, yet I may not. I’ll drag myself to safety if need be. But for the moment I needed to rest. I was in the safest place I could ever be, lying here, that vile man thinking I was dead. And I deserved some much needed rest, not an unconscious stupor enacted by pain. I’ll fall asleep to the thought of my hands around his neck, a gun in my hands pressed against his temple. 

I’ll wait. I’ll let him think I’m dead, rotting away in some god-forsaken forest, eaten by animals. And I’ll hunt him down, and I’ll kill him. Because now, more than ever before, I had no choice not to. 

 


End file.
